


Even On The Worst Days

by yavannauk



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-05
Updated: 2005-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:11:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yavannauk/pseuds/yavannauk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shower sex. Does that need further elaboration?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even On The Worst Days

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to alray's porn prompt. She'd had a bad day and wanted some John/Rodney porn, so...

Rodney is close to comatose by the time he feels a warm hand land heavily on his shoulder, spinning his chair away from the open laptop on the bench. If he had the energy left he'd complain, but it's officially been the day from hell and he's got nothing. He was dragged out of his bed at some ungodly hour of the morning when the city's power grid went haywire and he's barely stopped to draw breath since.

A steady supply of coffee and sandwiches have been appearing as if by magic during the day to keep him going, but Rodney hasn't taken the time to wonder where they came from. He's just grabbed a bite or a drink in passing before diving back into the intricacies of the necessary repairs. At this stage, the caffeine doesn't seem to be doing the trick any more, though.

Looking blearily around the lab, Rodney realises it's empty apart from himself and the man whose hand is still gripping his shoulder.

"Colonel?" he queries vaguely.

"Jesus, Rodney!" John gives him a little shake and Rodney's head lolls forward tiredly. "What are you still doing here at this hour?"

"Making sure the city continues to have power," Rodney snaps, slanting a sideways glance at John. His heart really isn't in it, though, and the words fade out into a yawn.

"The power grid is running just fine now." John frowns at him. "That's why everyone else is in bed."

"Except you," Rodney points out. He waves his hand vaguely in the direction of his laptop. "Anyway, I'm monitoring it for fluctuations."

"Bed, Rodney!" John insists. "If there's another problem someone will call you."

For a second Rodney's torn, but he knows John's right and, as much as he hates to concede, he's too damned tired to argue with him.

"Fine!" he says finally, reaching to power down the computer. "Fine."

John pats Rodney's shoulder in approval and then prods him until he drags himself out of his chair. Rodney groans as his back muscles spasm in protest at the number of hours he's spent hunched over his desk. He stretches, hearing his joints crack, and then slowly heads for the door. John sticks as close as his shadow as they make their way to the nearest transporter, presumably to ensure Rodney doesn't try to sneak back into the lab when he's not looking.

The corridors are empty this late at night and when Rodney thinks open the door to his quarters, John follows him inside without hesitation.

The lights come up just a little and Rodney considers falling into bed fully clothed. He's tired enough not to care about getting undressed, but he's also aware of just how knotted up his muscles are. If he goes to sleep like this, Rodney knows he'll pay for it in the morning. He won't be able to move.

John is leaning against the wall, watching him thoughtfully, as if he's aware of Rodney's dilemma. Suddenly, he pushes himself upright and moves across to Rodney, catching hold of his arm and steering him towards the bathroom.

"I think a nice hot shower is in order," John says firmly.

Grateful that any decision-making has been taken out of his hands, Rodney nods his agreement. He begins to strip out of his clothes while John turns on the shower. By the time Rodney's naked, steam is curling through the bathroom and he groans in anticipation. He steps into the shower stall and lifts his face into the perfectly heated spray of water. The shock of it hitting his skin is enough to disperse the fog of tiredness just a little and he smiles as John slips into the space behind him.

With warm, bare skin pressing against his back and hot water beating down on his chest, Rodney feels the stress of the day begin to sluice off of him along with the sweat and dust accumulated while he spent his time crawling under more than one Ancient console, working without a break. He sighs as he leans back into John, soaking up the wiry strength that supports him. The slight change in position leaves John's cock resting in the crack of his ass and Rodney can't quite resist rubbing against it.

There's a soft huff of laughter close by his ear. "Is this your way of telling me that you want something?"

"I've had a long day; I think the least you could do is help me wash," Rodney says airily.

He knows John enjoys touching him and Rodney likes the way John touches him. It's a win win situation and Rodney's absolutely certain he'll be a lot more relaxed and ready for sleep by the time John's done.

"What did your last body slave die of," John grumbles good-naturedly, but he's already reaching for the soap and carefully turning them both so that the spray gets them thoroughly wet.

John's hands are strong and quite assiduous in their task of lathering up every inch of Rodney's body. Rodney's already on the verge of melting into a boneless heap by the time John slides down onto his knees, his fingers beginning to massage Rodney's buttocks and thighs. When John manoeuvres him so that he's leaning back against the cool tile wall Rodney really needs the support, because his legs feel like jelly.

Unlike his cock, which is enjoying the proceedings far too much considering just how exhausted Rodney is. John tilts his head up, flashing him a quick grin as he wraps his hand around it and starts to stroke just the way Rodney likes it.

Rodney manages an appreciative moan, but he's beyond anything more coherent at the moment. John's other hand is wandering further afield, trailing soapy fingers up to pinch Rodney's nipples. They're predictably sensitive, quickly tightening into hard buds and Rodney arches into the touch. John's hand skates away again, this time skimming down across the soft flesh of Rodney's belly, which just makes him shiver.

Leaning back, John lets the full force of the shower spray hit Rodney for a few seconds; long enough to wash away the remaining lather. When Rodney's skin is slick and clean he moves in close again and now his mouth joins his hands in tracing out the contours of Rodney's body.

As tired as he is, Rodney's hips still jerk in response. His cock slides against John's stubbled cheek and the rough rasp sends a jolt through him. He tips his head back, banging it on the wall behind him.

"Fuck!" he hisses as John rubs his face against him, deliberately this time.

"You have a dirty mouth, Rodney," John says with a snort of laughter.

"I haven't heard you complaining," Rodney gasps as John nuzzles his hip and stomach lazily, licking up the drops of water beading on his skin. "And speaking of mouths, are you sure you wouldn't care to do something more constructive with yours?"

"Pushy bastard," John says affectionately before leaning in to slide his mouth over the head of Rodney's cock, sucking hard.

Rodney makes an odd, strangled sound and grabs for John's water flattened hair, digging his fingers into it and urging John's head down further.

John seems to take the suggestion with good grace and sucks more of Rodney's cock in, his lips tight on the slick flesh. While his mouth is occupied with Rodney's cock, John's hands slip behind Rodney's balls, fingers pressing in until Rodney thrusts forward with a notable lack of control. John apparently takes that as a signal to slide them further back, up between Rodney's ass cheeks. He circles Rodney's hole with the blunt tip of one finger, not trying to get inside, but still teasing enough to make Rodney pant and curse inventively.

Torn between trying to thrust his cock deeper into John's throat or getting that thick finger into his ass, Rodney ends up managing neither. Instead, the combined sensations spiral out of control and Rodney finds himself coming in a heated rush that leaves his head spinning and his knees buckling under him. John just keeps sucking his cock until Rodney's got nothing left to give, only then letting him slip out of his mouth.

While Rodney's still in the non-verbal stage of post-coital, John scrambles up off the floor of the shower, plastering his long, rangy body against Rodney's. When his brain comes back on line, Rodney's intimately aware of John's lips covering his while John's tongue insinuates itself into Rodney's mouth. Rodney's not at all averse to being kissed by John, even with the taste of his own come sharp on John's tongue.

He's even more on board with the way that John's rubbing himself off against him, the hard, slick length of his cock trapped between their stomachs. Rodney has enough presence of mind to grab a handful of John's ass and pull him in closer and that's all it takes to make John come as well, spurting hot and sticky between them. John throws his head back, his teeth raking across Rodney's bottom lip as he breaks their kiss. His hips jerk a few more times and then he slumps against Rodney, breathing hard.

For a long moment they remain wrapped around one another, holding each other up, while the hot water continues to pound down on them. Eventually, John takes his own weight and Rodney pushes away from the wall so that they can both clean the residual stickiness off their skin.

John shoots Rodney a crooked grin as he thinks the shower off and reaches up to push his fingers through his wet hair. "Someone looks much more relaxed now."

"Don't sound so smug," Rodney says as he grabs a towel and tosses a second one at John. "You already know how good you are at that so you don't need your ego stroked any more."

"I can think of a few other things you could stroke instead," John says with a leer.

Rodney gives a snort of disgust. "Think again, some of us need to sleep so that we can, you know, keep the city running. Besides, not all of us entertain delusions of having the refractory period of a teenager."

As if to illustrate his point Rodney yawns, scrubbing a hand across his face.

John nudges him with his shoulder, smirking. "It's okay, Rodney. I'll still love you even if you are old and decrepit."

"Oh, thank you, I feel so lucky." Rodney levels a narrow-eyed glare at John that loses something of its effectiveness when he yawns again.

John's lips twitch, threatening another smirk, but he buries his face in the towel before Rodney can complain about it.

Turning his back on John, Rodney swipes his own towel across his body a few more times and then throws it carelessly into the corner. Tiredness is rapidly catching up with him again and Rodney really does feel relaxed enough to sleep now.

"If you can refrain from any more ageist comments you can stay," Rodney says as he heads for his bed.

He hears the sound of another wet towel hitting tile and then there are warm, slightly damp arms sliding around his waist from behind.

"I can do that," John says, his breath hot on the back of Rodney's neck.

And when John's lips graze the soft skin at his nape, Rodney discovers that both of them have more stamina than he's given them credit for.


End file.
